Two Halves of a Shattered Whole
by iamthedaisyqueen
Summary: Demon!Dean and Cas are kind of in love but they won't admit it and then it all gets a bit hot. The destiel is strong with this one. Oneshot. T due to mild sexytimes.


**Two halves of a shattered whole**

The rain is tapping softly on the roof of the Impala and I am alone. Sam and I are fighting again. I know he thinks that the demon he sees in my eyes has slipped its tendrils back into my mind and my heart, and I have no way to convince him otherwise. Some days I have a hard time convincing myself. He has said that he can't sleep in the same room as me, that he spends all night wondering when I'll attack. I do not show him how much it hurts that he no longer trusts me. I sleep out here, cold and unhappy. Big brother Dean looking out for little Sammy yet again. But no, I mustn't be bitter. It's not his fault.

I can see the trees breathing with the wind through the misty window. Must be nice to not care so much about the weather, to just wave along as though nothing matters. Not that you'd catch me complaining about the rain these days, oh no, I have bigger things to worry about.

Like how I haven't seen Cas in weeks. Like how the last time I saw him he… well, he made his disgust of what I had become quite clear. Not that I care what he thinks. I can't.

I wish he'd show up though. Just once. Even if just to say goodbye.

* * *

I have been very careful to ensure that Dean is unable to see me. After all, we are technically enemies now. And he made his loyalties clear as day when he turned from me and walked away. But why then am I here? Watching over him is no longer one of my duties, and I have many matters that currently require my full attention. So why am I here now?

Maybe it is because it hurts to stay away.

I know I should make myself visible to him. No, it is more than that. I _want _to. I want to see his eyes fall upon mine, just one more time. I do not care if they are black or green. Surely he knows that?

He no longer prays to me though. No longer asks me to help him, even though I know he is fighting with Sam and he must be lonely. Perhaps he does not trust me. Perhaps he never will again. Perhaps… no it is foolish to continue in this way. I can wonder and hope on might-have-been for all eternity and it will still never come true.

But perhaps we could have been something more.

No matter. He will not want me now. I should not want him.

I know I should leave now. I know that this is not a safe place for me to be. Who knows who he's joined forces with. But then again I do not believe that Dean would do that. And, oh, that is dangerous thinking. But since I'm already thinking dangerously, maybe I should act that way too.

* * *

I sit up suddenly, nearly banging my head on the roof. There is something out there. Someone. The rain is past torrential now; a biblical storm. Which only makes it all the more illogical that I open the door and get out. Immediately I am soaked to the bone, but this is only of passing interest. Because he is there, his dirty trenchcoat sopping wet.

I am going to say that a lack of sleep caused the decision-making circuits in my brain to stop working. Because he could not possibly be here to see me, could not possibly _want_ to see me. But still I am walking towards him, then almost running, and then we collide, my arms wrapping round him. He stiffens for an instant, but just as I am about to pull away I feel his hands move tentatively across my shoulder blades.

* * *

I did not expect Dean to come out. Or maybe I did and I ignored it because I wanted to see him. There is a passion and a fervour in his eyes, tainted though they are. In the moment before he starts to move towards me I fear that he will walk away again. I do not think my soul can handle another goodbye.

But I do not need to. He is here, holding me, almost as though he knows that I am broken too. I know that he understands how to be broken. And I am holding him, cherishing every point where he touches me. We slide together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces, like two halves of a shattered whole.

* * *

"Dean," one of us says softly, reverently, as though this name is the most important word ever spoken.

"Cas," the other replies, and the same meaning is in his voice.

And although neither of us mean to, his lips crash suddenly into mine, or maybe mine crash into his, but who started it is of no concern to us. We have bigger things to care about.

We do not even want to think about how this must look; an angel kissing a demon in the pouring rain, grasping onto each other like a lifeline, gasping into each other like we have no other way to breathe.

The rain will soon stop. The morning will soon come. But in this moment we are infinite. In this moment neither of us is broken.


End file.
